As some of you may have noticed, I haven't posted in a
while. Between gardening, raising the chickens,
and taking care of the orchard, Maggie and I have had our hands full. We spent
most of 2012 editing, promoting, and writing a story each for Biohazard -- and unless you've done it yourself, you cannot imagine how much work goes into publishing a single title,
especially for a company the size of ours.
Earlier this year, we edited and re-released Dawn Scovill's first novel, Immortal Bonds, and I'm still working on
an anthology of my own short fiction, which I hope to have in print by next
I haven't posted a political rant in ages, and I don't know when or if I'll post another. The last straw for me, insofar as news and politics are concerned, was the City of Roswell quite literally driving Andrew "the Chicken Man" Wordes to suicide. My wife and I were on the scene, covering the story for the Examiner when Andy incinerated the house (and himself along with it). The experience left us burned-out and bitter. At that point, we realized that the system is fucked up beyond repair, that the Great Unwashed are more concerned with sports, television programs, and celebrity gossip than they are with reality, and that the American political scene is an overflowing cesspool.
The talking heads whip the mouth-breathing "True Believers" into a frenzy with trite, partisan rhetoric, while both major "parties" (although arguably, the Democrats and Republicans are merely two factions of a single party) work ceaselessly to expand the size and power of government at the expense of the ordinary citizen. If (and God help you if this is the case) you actually believe that the Democraps and Repblicunts are mortal enemies, locked in a Manichean/Zoroastrian struggle between light and darkness, you need to spend less time in front of the TV and more time under the Gold Dome when the State Legislature is in session. You'd be surprised at how chummy some of the dirtbags are with each other when the cameras aren't rolling. (When, as in 2010, a gun-grabbing Jimmy Carter-style Democrat stumps for a Republican gubernatorial candidate, the more intellectual of us -- and here in Georgia, that means those of us who can read without moving our lips -- tend to scratch our heads and ask: "What the fuck?") You'd also be surprised at how adept career tapeworms lobbyists are at working both sides of the aisle. Machiavelli 101: when the political process consists entirely of stage-managed "controlled opposition," which side wins is irrelevant. Or, as the British saying goes: "It doesn't matter which way you vote, you still end up with the fucking government."
On a more disturbing note, Maggie and I discovered that the political scene is a maggot-covered shite heap because the American people like it that way. Since we became active in politics three years ago, we've noticed that in any given election, the vilest, most corrupt and self-serving candidate usually wins. Sadly, the American people equate moral bankruptcy and pathological aversion to truth with political acumen. Consequently, they end up with exactly the government they deserve, to paraphrase Adlai Stevenson.
When one spends twenty or more hours a week checking voting records (the fact that Horatio P. Hunderfünundsiebziger claims he'll vote a certain way while he's trolling for votes is no guarantee that he will), filing Open Records Requests, and sifting through various politishits' financial disclosure forms, it's impossible for any but the most mindless of the Party Faithful to harbor illusions as to the moral worth of the Political Class. 99% of them are predators, bottom-feeders, and psychopaths ¾ exactly the kind of people one would expect to seek power over others. End of fucking story.
And the moral crabgrass is hardly confined to the patch of real estate inside the Beltway. Its roots extend all the way down to the municipal level; the very level most people ignore, and the only one over which Joe Sixpack has even a modicum of real control. Here's how it works: the lump of corn- and peanut-studded shit upon which our City Councils and County Commissions germinate is the starting point. From there, many if not most of the weeds seek bigger and better things. Therefore, if you really want to clean house, start on the ground floor. If nothing else, you'll discover how the political process actually works, as opposed to the empty theory you picked up in your high school Civics and college Political Science classes.
Worst of all are the mamby-pamby bullshiters who pass for "resistance" in this country and abroad: the "Internet Warriors," "Paper Patriots" and others of that leprous ilk; the "Teabaggers" ¾ altogether too fucking stupid to realize that their "movement" has been compromised from the beginning; the jerkoff conspiracy theorists who conceal their testicular deprivation"(how's that for a PC term?) behind the "gravity" (chuckle…) of their "mission," and the sensationalists and opportunists. (I won't mention names, but Maggie and I approached several big-name "anti-NWO" types, begging them to cover Andrew Wordes' story. With the exception of one health-food site, they ignored us. Apparently, the story was small potatoes -- or "small chickens," if you prefer. No surprise, that: shortly before his death, Andrew told us that he'd tried contacting two ostensibly "freedom-loving" local talk-show hosts, with identical results.
For the record, two of the ghouls made a stink at City Hall, but only after the smoke had settled. Fat fucking lot of good that did: yet another classic example of closing the barn door after the horse has escaped.
Although Andrew had become cause celebre in a few Internet circles, his was a house built upon sand. When the shit hit the fan, when the Fulton County Marshalls were knocking at the door, no one turned out to support him. No chants, no placards, no slobs bellowing into megaphones. Maggie was there. I was there. Mike Petchenik of Action News was there with his crew, and the nerdishly cute (the nerdish cuteness being, in my estimation, no less cultivated or calculated than my own Druid/Hillbilly image) redhead from CBS Atlanta was there with hers. That was it.
I may or may not compose an eyewitness account of that singularly nasty day in the future. God knows, I'd be one of perhaps a dozen people qualified to do so. (Another reason I've withdrawn from the political/news arena: the sheer volume of utter bullshit that has since surfaced on the Internet, courtesy of the very cowards and phonies who refused to lift a finger -- or even apply one to a keyboard -- when Andy most needed them. ) That, however remains to be seen.
As for the "scene"? For my part, I've had quite enough, and I wash my hands of the entire mess.
Unfortunately (and rather like durian), the stench tends to linger.